Survival of the Quickest: A Walking Dead Fanfic
by KelseyRose
Summary: In a world where running is the key of survival and blood is everywhere, Averi Parker meets up with Rick and the rest of the group. (Terrible at summaries. M for violence and lemons; LorixShane, DarylxO/C)


**Sorry if this starts off slow, but it'll get more action-y as it progresses, and it's my first fanfic I'm planning on sticking to. Please review and tell me what you think! O/Cs are welcome, PM me!**

It's normal walk home from school; quiet, nothing much new. My walk home is 5 or 10 miles; I've never really taken the time to measure it out. A little over an hour, I reckon, it takes to get home. I use every second of my walk to think about life.

It's been almost 10 years since I moved down here to Georgia. After my parents' car accident, after I moved in with Uncle Rob, after life went to Hell. The car crash, I figured, would've been the hardest part. I was far off. Sure, your parents' death is something painful, something I don' think anyone should have to endure at a young age. Nine, it was. Just old enough to realize the reality, just young enough to not understand how to cope. The mental pain was horrific. But then, when I was sent away, from New Jersey to Georgia, to live with Uncle Rob, the mental pain became coupled with physical pain.

I adjust my book bag's straps on my shoulders

Uncle Rob is not a gentle man. He drinks daily, so much in fact that the house has this stench of alcohol I can't get shake. No matter how many can of Lysol you use, it'll always come back. The smell isn't the bad thing though. It's his hands. And his belt. And his cigarettes and walls and my wavy brown hair and any other miscellaneous items strewn around the pigpen he can get his hands on. Everything around him becomes his weapon when he's intoxicated.

I miss my parents. I really do. And the baby my mom was carrying, we would'a named him Carl. Carl Joseph Parker.

Our family could'a been Mom, Dad, Carl and me, Averi.

I shake my head, trying to forget about the past from so long ago, even if it feels like it happened a week ago.

Today. Today at school. Average day, right? I got through it without a single cuss written on my locker, or a single trip in the halls, or a single note with insults passed to me. Today was better than most, actually.

Then I hear a rustle. The road I walk along has a short field of wild grasses, met by forest on the side I walk on, and just trees upon trees on the other side, power lines running along it.

The rustle sounds again, and I clear my throat.

"Hello?" I say.

Damn. Why would I say that? Because a murderous lunatic'll just poke his head outta the trees and start a casual conversation with me.

I look over my shoulder as I hear slow footsteps on my left side. I stop dead.

A man. No, not a man. Well, I'm not too sure, but something is definitely walking towards me with deliberate, shaky strides. He- it- whatever is cover in blood. I mean… it's all over him. His face, his hands, the front of his shirt is positively drenched in blood, and I can smell the metallic scent from about thirty yards away.

I turn my full body towards him as he shuffles forward. It lifts up its nose and sniffs the air, then lowers its chin so it near touches its chest. It locks eyes with me, and lets out this screech that makes my heart stop pumpin'.

Them he starts running. Well, it's a stiff run, but a run nonetheless. He outstretches his arms, like he's reaching for me. I don't react until he comes within an arms length of me, and I can't see the blood-shot whites of his eyes. Adrenalin takes over.

I drop my school bag and run.

Another one pops out of the woods in front of me, and I shift my path around it. It doesn't really realize I'm human until I'm nearly past it, and by the time it starts running I'm clear by it.

Where can I stop running, where can I hide? A tree. No, who's to say they can't climb? Try to loose them in the woods. No, who's to say there's not more of them in the wood?

The house! The house ahead, the white one I pass everyday with the polite, chubby woman who sits on her porch and waves to me!

I can do that. The bend in the road is up ahead, then the house is only a couple hundred feet from there.

I can do this.

I'm panting pretty hard. I run and shift my weight and make a tight turn and run. The house appears from behind the tall pines. Up the driveway, up the stairs, to the door.

I look over my shoulder and don't see anyone- anything, but know they're not far behind.

I fling open the screen door and knock on the door, hard and fast, but no one seems to answer.

I see the blood soaked men things come into view, not running, but still walking fast enough to scare me.

I look around and see a railing on the perimeter of the porch and stand on it, then climb onto the house's top. There's a little section of roof below the main part, so I hop up a couple feet to it. I climb to the other side of the steep roof and get low to the floor. I hang onto the peak for dear life, not daring to look up.


End file.
